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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23194774">Half Nine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmingwillow/pseuds/charmingwillow'>charmingwillow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, a beautiful apartment for a beautiful couple, af, homemade oats</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:40:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,117</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23194774</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmingwillow/pseuds/charmingwillow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>James woke to singing and a bar of warm, buttery sunshine across his face.</p><p>Naked and covered in soft, turquoise linen in a bright bedroom, he sat up and listened. He couldn’t recognize the song; it came in fading, absentminded notes, almost like a whisper. Pots clanked from another room, the same as the music, and then the rushing of water. </p><p>-</p><p>Or, the morning after Lily and James hook up for the first time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James Potter/Lily Evans Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Half Nine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I can't/don't write smut but I can sure as heck write the breakfast scene the morning after. </p><p>For anyone who is stuck social distancing and/or under quarantine. Please enjoy and stay safe &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>James woke to singing and a bar of warm, buttery sunshine across his face.</p><p>Naked and covered in soft, turquoise linen in a bright bedroom, he sat up and listened. He couldn’t recognize the song; it came in fading, absentminded notes, almost like a whisper. Pots clanked from another room, the same as the music, and then the rushing of water. </p><p>James rolled over and brought a hand over his face to wipe away the lingering sleep. Beyond the bed sheets was a white and floral duvet bunched up toward the foot of the bed. His eyes fell on a bedside table with a white clock reading half nine. Beside the clock was a small crystal vase with a purple candle, half burned and scented lavender. </p><p>The singing went on; James swung his feet out of the bed and onto a plush white rug. Little flecks of woven silver glinted in the sun filtering through the window. Last night’s memories flashed through with the same gentle flicker as the silver thread. </p><p>Green eyes across a hazy bar, sneaking glances at him over the thick rim of a pint glass. Sirius, pushing a pint into his own hand, for courage he said, as he shoved James in the girl’s direction. Not that he’d needed the courage; he’d already felt the magnetic pull toward her, already had one foot forward when Sirius intervened. </p><p>The pint had gone warm as James and the girl— <em> Lily</em>, his memory supplied— talked and talked. And talked. </p><p>He remembered her friends slinking away with encouraging grins. He remembered them both swiveling their bar stools toward each other, a black sequined heel dangling from her bobbing foot, and the long line of her leg going up and up under a dark dress. He remembered them gradually leaning into each other, until he could count a faint scattering of freckles across her nose, onto her cheeks, and the cloying scent of jasmine.</p><p>And red lips. Asking if he'd like to go out for a walk that led down a tree lined avenue with golden streetlights and then to a tall white building. Her apartment; three flights of stairs and the scrape of keys on polished linoleum as she fumbled them out from her purse.</p><p>And then, those same red lips on his, warm and eager as she led to her room, hands tangled in his hair. This room, where James spotted dark fabric pooled at the foot of the bed. Her dress, and there— his jeans, socks, t-shirt…He was very, very naked.</p><p>James glanced over at the clock again and winced; half nine, and he was still in her bed like a lazy fucking prat. </p><p>The singing carried on as James dressed, his clothes smelling vaguely of stale smoke from the bar; he wrinkled his nose in distaste and then, patting down his pockets for phone, keys, wallet, he ventured from the bedroom. </p><p>A short white hallway lined with pictures in frames of various sizes and colors greeted him. Friendly faces smiled at him as he passed them; some featured Lily but most seemed to be of her friends. </p><p>The hallway contained another closed door— the bathroom?—  and opened up into a modest sized living room and, off to the side of that, a small kitchen. Music played pop songs from an unseen source, volume low and ambient. Something amazing, sweet and spicy, wafted from the kitchen.</p><p>James stopped just before he crossed the invisible line that marked the end of the hallway and the beginning of the living room. He could see the apartment door, just there, a dark red that seemed in contrast to the pleasant pastel of the rest of the decor. It was half nine, and the morning after a hookup. </p><p>Would he be a complete git if he snuck out? What was the protocol? The singing was louder here; Lily was quite close, definitely not in the bathroom so his chances of sneaking out were slim to none anyway. </p><p>Half-past nine. Fuck. Might as well get it over with...James stepped into the living room, walking until the kitchen was in full view. </p><p>And there was Lily, dressed in an over-sized black t-shirt and pink plaid leggings, singing quietly to herself as she stirred something on the stove. She'd obviously just showered and piled her wet hair into a messy bun atop her head, and her bare feet were crossed at the ankles. </p><p>
  <em>“And all at once…”</em>
</p><p>She had a lovely voice, a mix of humming and soft notes, and she swayed slightly as she stirred. Unable to help it, James watched, entranced.</p><p>
  <em>“Body and soul…”</em>
</p><p>Lily turned then, to reach for something from the open pantry beside her, but paused, spotting him. James had the momentary sense of being a deer in headlights; his eyes widened and his hands stiffened, as if he’d been caught doing something— but then Lily smiled.</p><p>“Good morning,” she said, unfazed and cheerful as she nodded at the small pot on the stove. “I’m making cinnamon apple oats— would you like some?”</p><p>James didn’t have a response, at least not audibly because he very much <em> did </em> want cinnamon apple oats, but he also felt enormously out of place in this apartment at— he glanced at the little clock on the stove— twenty ‘til. When, just ten minutes ago, he’d woken up extremely naked in her bed. After meeting her at a bar. And walking her home. And...He flushed, and went back to the matter at hand. </p><p>Did he want oats? Yes. Did he know how to say that? Not really…</p><p>Lily did it for him. “Have a seat, it’ll be done in a ‘mo. Tea?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he croaked, the first time he’d spoken that morning, and because one never turned down tea. He cleared his throat and added, “please.”</p><p>Lily hummed amiably and went to it, grabbing two mugs. She paused by the fridge. “Milk?”</p><p>“Thanks. Er, no sugar.”</p><p>
  <em>“Baby all at once this is enough…”</em>
</p><p>James swallowed as he watched Lily pour in a splash of milk in each mug, then the tea bags, then the steaming water from a pink and white electric kettle. Finished, she glanced back at him and nodded toward the sitting area, at a white couch.</p><p>“Sit,” she insisted, and went back to stirring the apples. </p><p>The song ended; Lily’s voice faded with it, and then another started. James finally crossed over to the couch, but carefully dropped his pocket's contents onto the coffee table. </p><p>Lily sang, James sat. It was...well, it didn’t <em> have </em> to be awkward, but he wasn’t quite sure where he stood so yes, it was a little awkward. </p><p>Sirius never mentioned staying for breakfast after a hookup, though he hadn’t done that since Remus sassed into his life a year ago so maybe things had changed since then. James certainly wouldn’t know, having only been in two long term relationships before. Peter was just perpetually, happily, single. </p><p>Maybe this was just how Lily was. Judging by the tidy apartment— the lit candle on the coffee table, flowers only half wilted in a white vase on the table in the small dining space, and the fact that she was currently serving them up homemade cinnamon apple oats— yes. Lily was just like this. </p><p>“Pretty apartment,” he commented, eyes going along the top of the TV bookcase, where a collection of knick-knacks— tea cups, figures, and a glass vase filled with tiny glass flowers— were lined.</p><p>“It’s my sanctuary,” Lily said fondly, coming out of the kitchen with two white and gold bowls of steaming oats. </p><p>They smelled divine, sweet, with flecks of cinnamon coating the tender apples and dripping with caramelized sugar. James’ mouth watered and the couch cushions dipped as Lily settled into it, tucking her feet under her legs; she handed a bowl to James. Of course it tasted as delicious as it smelled. The tea, despite being nothing special, only black tea, also seemed better than usual. </p><p>Another song came on, this one mostly guitar, and James glanced over at the bookcase beside the patio door. A porcelain stag was perched proudly on top, gazing imperiously out into the apartment. Lily followed his gaze and smiled.</p><p>“Sort of looks like you, doesn’t he?” She placed her bowl carefully into her lap and held her hands behind her head, mimicking antlers. </p><p>James pat his unruly hair and smirked. And then he looked at the books shelved within the case. Long, Latin titles in large block letters; he titled his head to get a better look. <em> Pharmaceutical Calculations; Anatomy and Physiology; Applied Biopharmaceutics… </em></p><p>“You’re a doctor?” </p><p>“Pharmacist,” she corrected, her tone suddenly careful as she took another bite from her oats. </p><p>He glanced over at her and said, “my mum taught nursing at a university. These textbooks are practically childhood nostalgia.”</p><p>Lily smirked, loosening a bit and nodded at the books. “I graduated last year but they cost a literal arm and leg, I can’t seem to throw them out yet.”</p><p>“Mum’s still constantly referencing hers,” James nodded, thinking of the stacks of books scattered around his parents’ home, “so probably can’t hurt anyway. Then again, she was a professor, so I dunno.”</p><p>Lily stared at him, half smiling, half considering, and a moment later shook her head. “It’s sad to say but you’re refreshing. There’s a doctor at the hospital I work at— ignores me and goes instead to a male pharmacist who gives him the same information.” She rolls her eyes as if to say, <em> waste of bloody time. </em></p><p>“Sounds like a slimy fuckwit.” It got an amused snort from Lily. </p><p>“He is, actually…”</p><p>They go back to eating. James’ tension loosened by the time he got to the bottom of his bowl; he resisted the urge to lick the cinnamon/sugar goo, and set it on the table instead. Lily, also finished, grabbed it and pulled herself up from the couch. </p><p>“I can do those—” James was already halfway up when the water started in the sink. He watched uselessly as Lily rinsed the bowls and placed them in the dishwasher under the sink. She threw him a grateful but dismissing smile and went for the pots on the stove. </p><p>“You’re my guest,” she said simply, glaring when he stood fully and jabbed a finger at him to <em> stay</em>. The gesture was so much like his mother— zero room for argument and the kind of <em> fiery </em>that made her amazing— that stunned James in admiration as he sank back onto the couch. Lily gave a satisfied nod. “Good boy.”</p><p>And then she paused, as if noticing the new song that’d come on, and hummed as she cleaned the pots. </p><p>
  <em>“...only see daylight…”</em>
</p><p>On the coffee table, James’ phone flashed blue with new messages. Feeling a tad guilty, he glanced at Lily as she puttered around the kitchen, and reached for it. Several notifications from his friends' group chat filled the screen.</p><p>
  <em>You alive, mate?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Did she turn out to be an ax-murderer?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Never should have let him go, Sirius, he’s an innocent doe...</em>
</p><p>James both scowled and rolled his eyes and sent back, <em> fuck sake, I’m fine. Still here, actually. She made breakfast. </em></p><p>All three of them began typing at once, followed by:</p><p>
  <em>Marry her.</em>
</p><p><em>You </em> do <em> know what a </em> one night <em> stand is, right?</em></p><p>
  <em>Five after ten, nice.</em>
</p><p>“James?”</p><p>He glanced up, and found Lily watching him as she leaned against the kitchen door frame, her arms crossed. </p><p>
  <em>“Daylight...daylight…”</em>
</p><p>She was beautiful, surrounded by this bright, pretty apartment, her hair drying in a lump, her face scrubbed fresh and clean. She’d been beautiful last night in the bar, of course, in her dark dress and red lipstick but here in the daylight, she looked real, tangible. </p><p>“You probably have to go soon...” Lily said, and bit her lip, sweetly demure in a way she hadn’t been earlier, and certainly wasn't last night. It was her heart on her sleeve, and James found his picking up in anticipation. “But would you want to do this again? Properly? With dinner and maybe <em> not </em>a bar?”</p><p>If James could say <em>why wait</em>, he absolutely would. But he was sat in her lovely apartment, while she was lovely in clean pajamas and he was vaguely disgusting in yesterday’s clothes smelling of stale cigarette smoke. The sooner he showered, the better.</p><p>Luckily, she was not only the kind of person to make breakfast for her hookup, but also the type to keep a little block of post-it notes and a cup of pens next to a porcelain stag, so he grabbed one and wrote down his number. </p><p>
  <em>"I wanna be your endgame…" </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>-Songs mentioned here are all by Taylor Swift 'cause she owns my soul.<br/>-<a href="https://charmingwillow.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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